


The Second Letter

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: M/M, Post Series, Teeny-Tiny Main Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: Trevor and Blake are moving into their new place and an old box of memories is discovered.
Relationships: Bake Moran/Trevor Kingston
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	The Second Letter

“Hey, Babe? What’s in this box?”

Blake appeared in the doorway to see what box Trevor was referring to. They were mostly moved in to their new home and were just clearing out the final things. The box wasn’t much bigger than a shoe box and was taped shut. “Is it marked?”

“Says MSec office- Blake personal _._ It was on the shelf in the closet.” Trevor tipped the box to show him the handwriting. “MSec?”

He chuckled as he closed the distance. “It was verbal shorthand of Elizabeth’s title at State. Madam Secretary was too much to say if we were in a hurry. And we were always in a hurry. Interesting though, this is her handwriting.”

“What’s in it? You had personal stuff in her office?”

He looked around for the knife to cut the tape. “Over the years I had all sorts of things in her office. Spare clothes in the closet, grooming kit in the bathroom… A blanket.” The lid came off and he peered inside. First, he lifted out a book. “I forgot about this. I’d brought it in one day for a distraction when we were stuck waiting on word that a mission or decision went bad or not and I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything work related. I only ever made it halfway if that tells you how often that happened.” They both chuckled.

Trevor reached in and pulled out a piece of fabric. “A pocket square?”

“Oh!” Blake’s eyes widened. “I forgot about that!” He took it and spread it out, remembering the last time he’d seen it. “It was stupid and sentimental when I did it and then later, I was horribly embarrassed, but by then it was too late, and I couldn’t undo it… You know… This is the only one I never got back.”

“The only one?”

He sat down in a chair. “In the beginning, there was barely a move Elizabeth made during work hours that I wasn’t at her side. Every meeting, car ride, literally everything. She went to Iran and I couldn’t go and I had this horrible feeling about the trip. I begged her to not go through with it. About a month earlier she’d borrowed a pocket square and I’d gotten a little nutty about getting it back and she’d teased me about it.” He paused to remember the details. “I’m not sure what I thought, but when I realized she was going anyway, I shoved this in the pocket of her coat before I brought it to her. When her detail checked in with me later, he said she’d found it and I made him get a promise from her to bring it back.” He swallowed. “That was the last time I talked to that agent. He died over there.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. But anyway. There weren’t too many other big trips she made without me after that, but when they happened, I added a pocket square when I loaded her briefcase. We never talked about it directly, but she’d come back and it would be on my desk or one of her detail brought it back to me once when she had to go right into a meeting at the White House. It was sort of a signal that they got her back safe.”

“That’s… sweet, Blake. In a weird but totally you kind of way.”

“I told you it was stupid and sentimental.”

“It’s not.” Trevor dug in the box again, pulling out pictures this time. “Oh, now these look good!”

They spread the photos out and discussed them, he was in most of them, but not all. “That’s Daisy’s daughter just after she was born.”

“And you holding her.”

“Yes. Somewhere I’m sure there are more than a few of Jay’s oldest too.”

“This one’s you and Nadine.” Trevor turned a print around, showing Blake a shot of himself and Nadine dancing.

“Judging by her dress I would say… Australian State Dinner my second year.”

“You can tell from the dress?” Trevor sounded impressed.

“It’s the only event I can remember her wearing that color. It was the night she had a shoe malfunction and ended up barefoot half the night; thank goodness for a floor length gown.” He smiled softly at the memory. “Quite a few of these are from dinners.” He watched his husband spread them out and then he put them in order from memory. “This is like a timeline of when I worked at the Truman. I could probably tell you at least one shocking or scandalous story for each of these.”

“I expect you will eventually.”

“Maybe.” Another bundle of pictures caught his attention and he pushed the first ones to the side.

“Those are the McCords.”

“Yeah. Family candids. I knew she had some in the office, but I never really took the time to go through them.” To be honest, he hadn’t even realized most had been taken. Judging by who else was in them, it looked like every McCord at one time or another had snapped a shot. “I’ve never seen most of them.”

“We should get frames and hang them.” Trevor’s comment didn’t get a response as Blake studied the photos carefully. They really had been his family in the best sense of the word. “There’s an envelope in the bottom.”

“What?” Blake blinked.

Trevor held the white paper out. “A letter. Has your name on it.”

Putting the pictures down, Blake stared at it a moment, confused. Elizabeth’s handwriting had changed a bit over the years, especially during her time as president, but he still recognized it anywhere. Jay had teased him one day about their third year into her presidency that he was better at authenticating her signature that the office whose job it was to do so, and he could discern her moods from her handwriting as well. Jay hadn’t been wrong. From the sharp lines and the way letters came to a point instead of rolled along, he could tell she’d been worried when she’d scrawled his name on it.

Popping the long-dried adhesive, he pulled out a single typed sheet, thought it had her signature on the bottom. “Oh.”

“What?”

“It goes with the pocket square.” A lump started to form in his throat. “Hold on.” He rose, leaving the room for a few minutes before returning with a second envelope. “This one has been in the safe with my personal documents.” He held up the new one. “After she left, I found a letter in my desk from her. I didn’t open it until months later, it was basically a goodbye and telling me to keep in touch with the family.” He didn’t open the letter; he didn’t need to. Almost two decades later and he didn’t need to double check to see what it said. “She knew she might die for her country on that trip and she wanted me to know it wasn’t my fault for not stopping her.” He read and then reread the new one. “This one I think she wrote in the bunker. We knew by then some of her agents were dead, didn’t know if she was too.”

“And she wrote to you?”

Nodding, Blake began to read it out loud, pausing occasionally to silently read a sentence first before speaking it. “I made sure all my detail know your pocket square has to get back to you, even if I don’t. The coup happened like you swore it would; I should know to listen to you by now, you always have my best interests in mind. We’re in a bunker, Fred is dead, and I don’t know where the others are. The explosions are close and I was injured and have been bleeding since I woke up down here.” His voice caught a moment. “Don’t live your life thinking me dying is your fault. If you’re handed this before my funeral, I’ve never told Henry the real reason why I insisted you had to come to DC with me. You should tell him, he’ll like hearing the story and it might feel good to tell it. Keep an eye on the girls for me, and Jason too. Remember that I love you just the same as I love them.”

The room was quiet for several minutes before Trevor spoke. “Kind of weird that we found this now.” His voice was soft.

“Yeah.” Blake laid the letter in his lap, rubbing tears away. “I thought I’d get through this without turning into a mess.”

“I’m not sure how you expected that.” He patted his husband’s shoulder. “You should call Henry and check on him.”

“Yeah.” Blake rose and went in search of his phone, making his way through the rooms that were heavy with memories. “Hey, Henry.” He tried to sound cheery when the call connected.

“How’s settling into the house going?”

“It’s- It’s good. Some nights I swear there’s a ghost walking around downstairs laughing and making popcorn. We were just emptying a few small boxes I had left and I- I came across some old mementos and they made me decide to call you and see how you’re doing?”

“I’m good. It’s getting better every day.”

“That’s good to hear… I was wondering, did Elizabeth ever tell you why she was so insistent I come to DC?”

“No, she never told me.”

“She thought you would’ve loved the story, if you have some time to talk?”

“I’ve got nothing but time now.”


End file.
